


I Just Want You for My Own

by justwanderingneverlost



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas fluff and a little smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Jonerys, Jonerys Secret Santa 2019, Merry Christmas Ellie, Modern AU, and old school crushes, soft beans are soft, think Hallmark holiday movie, thrown together by fate on Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwanderingneverlost/pseuds/justwanderingneverlost
Summary: Daenerys travels to the North for what she expects will be a quiet and lonely hoilday. But the house she's rented holds surprises old and new.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 150
Kudos: 512





	I Just Want You for My Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [esteri_ivy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteri_ivy/gifts).



> It's that time of year! Presents for everyone! This hefty one shot was written for esteri_ivy over on tumblr for Jonerys Secret Santa 2019. Merry Christmas Ellie!! I hope you love it. I hear you are having an awesome holiday already but maybe this will add a little more cheer to it. I had a blast writing it for you! For all the rest who might read, please enjoy and I wish you all the happiest of holidays!!!! Stay safe and much love!
> 
> PS! If you can please have a listen to the song I choose for this. It's so beautiful and soft!
> 
> PSS! Big shout out to my bestie Ash for holding my hand through this one and her beta job. I love you!!!

I don't want a lot for Christmas  
There is just one thing I need  
I don't care about the presents  
Underneath the Christmas tree  
I don't need to hang my stocking  
There upon the fireplace  
Santa Claus won't make me happy  
With a toy on Christmas day  
I just want you for my own  
More than you could ever know  
Make my wish come true  
All I want for Christmas is you

I won't ask for much this Christmas  
I won't even wish for snow  
I'm just gonna keep on waiting  
Underneath the mistletoe  
I won't make a list and send it  
To the North Pole for Saint Nick  
I won't even stay awake to  
Hear those magic reindeer click  
I just want you here tonight  
Holding onto me so tight  
What more can I do  
All I want for Christmas is you  
All I really want (All I really want)  
All I really want

All the lights are shining  
So brightly everywhere (So brightly everywhere)  
And the sound of children's  
Laughter fills the air  
And everyone is singing  
I hear those sleigh bells ringing  
Santa won't you bring me   
the one I really need

I don't want a lot for Christmas  
This is all I'm asking for  
I just want to see my baby   
right outside my door  
I just want you for my own  
More than you could ever know  
Make my wish come true   
(Make my wish come true)  
All I want for Christmas is you  
All I want for Christmas  
All I want is you  
All I want is you

All I Want For Christmas Is You - Ingrid Michaelson and Leslie Odom Jr

  
“How long will you be staying with us, Miss?”

She came to attention, laying her phone in her lap as she met the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror and attempted to give him a genuine smile. “A week.”

“Oh, right nice holiday then, eh?”

“I hope so, yes.”

“Will you be needing a lift when it’s time to leave?”

“Yes, I will. Could you perhaps pick me up again? Next Friday morning, round half past eleven?”

“Course Miss. I’ll be glad to.”

“Thank you,” she answered him, the blur of never ending white passing by her window finally drawing her attention.

Anyone would think the world out there was beautiful. An absolute winter wonderland. Rolling moors and the patches of forest all covered in a thick blanket of snow. The quaint little village they’d passed through not long ago with the tiny shops and houses and their glowing windows, wreaths and trees. It was all truly breathtaking and she was doing her best to be excited, to look forward to the time away from the city, to the peace and quiet the country provided. All things she desperately needed. It was why she chose it after all. 

It had been a dozen years since she’d been to the North, but she’d never forgotten it. The longing to go back always with her. She’d loved her time here, that one fleetingly short year so long ago. It was the perfect place to get away.

And she would enjoy it. She was determined. It didn’t matter one bit that it was Christmas and she’d be all alone. It didn’t matter at all.

The cabbie pulled the car to stop, the brakes giving a shrill screech. “Right pretty place, Miss. All my fairs who stay here enjoy it. You’ll be no different,” he said as he climbed out to get her bags. 

She didn’t much doubt him as she too got out of the cab. The house was perfect, even prettier than it had been in the pictures. Old, but well loved with its steeply pitched roof, double chimneys, stone facade, and arched windows and door. The lights were already on, a warm cheery glow shining through a few of the windows and out onto the snow-covered garden. It looked so cozy. Like a proper home. 

The snow crunched under her heeled boots as she carefully made her way to the front walk where the cabbie was leaving her bags. She handed him his tip. “Thank you, sir. See you again, soon?”

He smiled and gave her a nod. “Right Miss. I’ll be back in a week’s time. Half past eleven. You have yourself a Happy Christmas,” he told her as he climbed back in his cab.

“You too,” she softly returned as he drove away.

She gathered up her bags, easily able to juggle the three she’d brought; spending seven days alone didn’t warrant much packing. After a careful trek to the front door she punched in the code the service had given her, a smile stirring the moment the red light flipped to green and the lock gave a soft metallic click. She quickly open the door fearful it might lock on her again before she could get inside. It didn’t, only giving a beep as she closed it again, shutting out the cold before turning around to take in her home for the next week. 

The sight that greeted her was not what she expected. 

All of her bags dropped to the floor as she screamed and plastered herself to the door, heart lodged in her throat.

The largest dog she'd ever seen was standing not three feet away, white as all the snow outside save for his blood red eyes narrowed in on her, and the black of his mouth pulled back in a snarl, sharp teeth gleaming.

She was going to die. No one would miss her for weeks. There’d be nothing left but bones and bloodstains when they found her. She never dreamed she’d go out quite that way, but here she was about to be mauled to death by a vicious beast.

Not so much as a squeak escaped her, all the air having already left her lungs, when a man appeared behind the dog. Her eyes did go impossibly wider though, and a trembling hand pressed over her mouth. He was wet and half naked, just a towel around his waist. The gun in his hand was rather large and pointed right at her. He appeared as if he knew exactly how to use it too.

She’d wonder at it later, but her mind went somewhere else, blocking out the fear with happy memories. Of a year spent in the North— new friends, new experiences, the first sweet taste of love her young heart had ever known. 

It was clear then who it was that stood in front of her. The same brown eyes that had more often than not been filled with sadness and always tugged at her heart. Even with the beard attempting to hide them she knew those plump pouty lips; she’d wanted to kiss them so badly. And that head full of black curls her fingers had constantly itched to run through. They were shorter than they’d been, even wet, but it was most definitely him. She’d never forget him, not as long as she lived.

Finally her lungs could hold no longer and she exhaled. “Jon Snow?”

The gun slowly lowered, dark eyes giving a blink as every muscle in his beautiful body that she was not looking at relaxed. His head of raven curls cocked to the side, a familiar furrow gathering in the middle of his brow. “Daenerys?” 

A wild bubble of laughter escaped her and she very nearly collapsed to the floor in relief. “Oh my Gods!”

“What the bloody hells?”

“You about made me piss myself,” she laughed, unable to do anything else apparently now that the terror was washing away.

“At ease, Ghost,” he said, the deep tone and air of calm within it silencing her ridiculous laughter.

The dog sat, his long fluffy tail sweeping a lazy arc across the worn wooden floorboards. Those red eyes were still firmly focused on her though. Hers went back to Jon’s. He was staring at her, his frown dark, confusion or anger the cause she wasn’t sure. But she supposed he had a right to both.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out like a ninny, a hand pressed over her still pounding heart. Her breathing had barely slowed.

He shook his head. “S’alright. But if I’d known you were comin’ I’d have been better prepared. Maybe not tried to shoot you at least.”

“Wait.” _They hadn’t both rented it?_ She stood a bit straighter and pointed at the floor. “This is your house?”

“Aye, last I checked.”

“Then how… What is—”

He sighed harshly, his eyes falling closed a heartbeat before opening again. “Stayaway, right? You’ve rented it?”

 _Oh thank gods, she hadn’t completely lost her mind, or stepped into another timeline. Or some crazy bullocks like that._

She nodded in answer, a sheepish smile plastered on her face. 

A low growl filled the space between them and she wasn't quite sure whether it came from him or his monster of a dog. But he was staring at the floor, mumbling to himself, his fingers flexing around the grip of his gun so she assumed… 

Her lungs froze again, something finally registering within her brain even though it had been right in front of her all along. He was riddled with scars. Dark pink, thick and twisting they made a heartbreaking map across his chest and down his stomach. The worst laid right over his heart and it made her own feel as if it might stop.

_How could anyone possibly survive that?_

Her eyes flicked back to his and he was staring at her again, a painful mixture of shame and defensiveness in his dark gaze. He held his free hand up. “Wait there, I’ll be right back. Just need a minute to…” he waved at his bare chest and disappeared through another doorway she assumed. 

Determined she would ask no questions about that at least, she and Ghost continued to stare at one another, both motionless. Moving was not something she intended to do while those bloody eyes studied her as one did a new and exciting dish of food.

“He won't hurt you,” came Jon’s muffled voice a moment later from somewhere deeper within the house as if he’d read her mind.

Nervous laughter spilled free, but she still didn’t move. “I’m glad to hear that!” she called out instead. She really was. “Have you been feeding him steroids, or perhaps some superhero serum?”

She thought she heard a chuckle, but couldn’t be sure. “He’s mostly wolf. Believe it or not he was the runt of his litter. Sorry he scared you.” She did not believe it and he was coming back, his words growing clearer, closer again. “Sorry I did too,” he said as he appeared once more, pulling a black shirt down around his waist. He was in black jeans as well. Both fit him like a second skin. His feet were bare. His shorter curls shook free and towel dried.

He was every bit as beautiful as he’d been back in school. No, even more so. He’d been a boy then, now he was very much a man. The lean muscles, the beard, the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

A shy smile tugged at his full mouth, he waved a hand over to a set of wingback chairs to her left. “Sit, before your knees give out,” he offered. 

She hadn't realized how shaky she actually was until she took his advice. Her legs felt as if they'd turned to jelly as she walked over to the chair. Jon’s smile widened a tad when she let out a long breath. He left her again, this time going into the kitchen on silent feet. He was back a few moments later with a cup of tea. He held it out for her. 

“Have some. Put a spot of rum in it. Should help settle your nerves.”

She took it from him with a grateful smile. “Thank you, though I'm not sure it's wise to take drinks from strangers,” she murmured. “Even if they admit to spiking it.” That definitely got a chuckle from him as he sat across from her. She winked at him and took a sip, humming in appreciation. 

As he’d been in school, he was painfully silent, swapping between fleeting glances and shy shifts of his gaze. He was finding the floor quite interesting at the moment. 

She squirmed in her seat and sniffed a tad in hopes of drawing his eyes back to hers. It worked. “I need you to know I'm not stalking you. I had no idea.”

He chuffed and gave a smile as he shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. This is my fault, or the service anyway. I'm not sure what happened. I called before I came back. They assured me that no one had rented it. I even made them double check. It's usually always booked at Christmas. I was shocked when they told me it wasn't.”

 _Everything happens for a reason_ , she wanted to say, but didn’t. She wasn't sure how it had happened, but she was grateful it had. Even if she only got to see him for an hour or so, it would be worth the trip. He’d been her first true friend and they’d lost touch way too long ago.

“I’m assuming you’re not here much?” she questioned. “Maybe just a holiday home?”

“No, it’s home I guess,” he said with a shake of his head. “But you’re right, I’m not here much. Gone a good nine months out of the year. Rentin’ it through the service helps me keep it up. Leave a place sittin’ empty too long and it starts to fall apart.”

She nodded, her chest filled with an uncomfortable pressure. She’d learned from experience people were like that as well. 

“You expectin’ anyone else?”

She looked up, telling herself that wasn't hope she saw in his eyes. “No, just me,” she answered softly.

That furrow appeared between his lovely eyes again. “You're spendin’ Christmas alone? That doesn't seem right.”

It wasn’t, but that was her life. Then a thought hit her and her eyes darted to his left hand. _No ring. But still_. “Are _you_ expecting anyone else?” she asked. 

_Please say no._

He gave a chuff, his fists working as he stared at the floor again. “No.” He stood suddenly, startling her, though the movement was fluid, soundless. “I’ll go, and leave you to your holiday. Barely unpacked as it is.”

Her heart lurched with panic as he walked passed her and she grabbed his wrist without a thought. “Jon, no. I’ll not boot you out of your home on Christmas,” she rattled off. He stopped, those nearly black eyes staring down into hers before dropping to her hand wrapped around him. Mortified, she let him go and stood, carefully placing the tea he’d given her on the small table by the chairs. She walked back to the door and grabbed her purse. “I’ll call the cab back, get a flight home.”

The floorboards creaked behind her. “No, you’ve paid already, Daenerys. Came a long way I’m assumin’...”

“Kings Landing,” she offered with a glance over her shoulder.

His eyebrows rose, full mouth falling open. “You live in Westeros?”

She hummed. “For quite a while.”

He settled back on one foot. “Huh. I just got back from Essos.”

“Really?”

“I'm in private security,” he told her, crossing his arms over his chest almost protectively. She thought his shirt might be in danger of popping a few seams. “Do a lot of jobs over there.”

_No wonder he looked so adept with his gun._

“That's why you're gone so much?” He nodded. “And how long has it been since you were last here?”

His mouth pinched and twisted, a deep breath drawn in and slowly let out. “Five months,” he muttered.

Heart falling to her feet for several reasons she turned back to her purse and began digging for her phone. “That settles it then. I’ll go back home and leave you to yours.”

Another heavy sigh left him. “Daenerys it's really no trouble. I know how much it costs to stay here. I can go into the village. I’ve a friend there.”

Her hands faltered at that, but it was no business of hers what kind of friend he was speaking of. “I appreciate it, I do,” she said facing him again, trying to smile, phone in hand, “but I simply will not run you from your home on Christmas.” She scrolled through her calls and found the number for the cab company. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” 

Before she'd even realized he’d moved, he had plucked the phone from her fingers quick as a blink. “You're stayin’, I insist.”

She threw him an outraged scowl, hands on her hips. “You can't keep me here against my will, Jon Snow.”

“Gods no!” he nearly hollered, looking horrified. He ran a hand down his face. “That's not what I meant.”

Ghost finally laid down behind him with a grumble and sigh. Daenerys almost laughed, his timing was perfect. 

She knew Jon hadn't meant to forcefully keep her there, but he’d always been fun to take the piss out of. “Any chance you have two bedrooms?” she asked just to throw him off further.

His look of confusion was priceless, mouth agape, eyes owlish. “What?”

“Do you have more than one bedroom?” she asked slowly and succinctly, biting back a grin.

“Aye, I’ve got three actually, but… there's Uncle Benjen’s stuff— I’m alone when I'm here, and it's more of a couple's type of rental.” He blew out a flustered breath. “There's only one bed between the three of em.”

Now it was her thrown off kilter. “Oh. Well. That—”

Jon shifted to one foot and then the other, his brow thoroughly furrowed. He froze and stared at her hard. “Are you suggestin’ we both stay?” 

_Was she? Possibly. And why not?_

Not spending another holiday all by herself sounded like quite a good idea to her. She and Jon had always gotten on well at school. Had even kept in touch for the year after, it would be good to catch up, discover who each other had become. _Wouldn't it?_

“Daenerys?”

Her head shot up, violet eyes meeting deep brown. “Maybe?” she squeaked, shoulders rising, smile tight. Jon cracked the smallest of grins, just a tiny thing hidden in one corner of his full mouth. It was all the encouragement she needed. “It’s Christmas. We were both going to spend it alone, yes?”

He gave a soft nod. “Aye, well me and Ghost anyway,” he said with a shrug.

“No family to see?” she prodded gently.

He licked his lips and dropped his eyes to the floor. “No, none for me.” He looked back up before she had time to even wonder what had become of his family. “You?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I'm sorry,” he said softly.

“Not your fault, but thank you. I'm sorry too.” Jon nodded, his smile tight. She decided to move them on to better things, she hoped. “So, we’ve reached a stalemate. I refuse to boot you out of your house and you won't let me leave. What else are we to do?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, skeptical. “You really want to spend Christmas with me?”

It certainly wasn't what she had planned or even dreamed could happen. She had fleetingly thought of him on the flight up, but she never let herself hope she might see him, certain he had long since left the North. But now that they were standing in the same space, and she had an otherwise dreadfully lonely week ahead of her… She had no expectations, but she couldn't think of anything she wanted more. 

It was almost like a Christmas wish come true. One she hadn’t even known to wish for.

She took a step closer, giving him a soft smile. “It's been years since we saw each other last and I honestly didn't choose to be alone on Christmas, it just seems to be my lot. Maybe you didn't either? Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to spend it with me?”

  
—

  
Jon couldn't think of anything less bad, or what he’d done right that had brought her to his doorstep. But he knew he'd be the world's biggest fool to say no. He’d let her slip away all those years ago and knew it was a mistake the entire time, but had been too chicken shit to do anything about it. 

_Not this time._

He gave her a grin while shoving his hands in his pockets. She had him all fidgety. “No, it wouldn't be bad at all.”

Her responding smile was brilliant and lit the room, even pushed at the weight sitting on his chest. Nothing had so much as budged it in years. 

To his shock she rushed forward and hugged him tight. He struggled a moment to free his hands and return it. More of that weight lifted as he did. She felt amazing in his arms. A perfect fit if he thought about it.

“It's so good to see you, Jon. I should've said so sooner,” she said, her voice sounding a bit strained. She made to pull away and he let her, more reluctant than he had a right to be. 

“Aye, it's good to see you too. Been too long.” 

“Yes, it has,” she agreed, and he was certain even in the low light that a blush was coloring her cheeks. Made him not feel so flustered about the heat in his own. “I don't remember why we stopped writing, but we shouldn't have.”

A wave of regret and guilt hit him, both feelings he was well familiar with. “That was my fault I think. Joinin’ up took over everything. I'm sorry.”

“It's alright. Life has a tendency to get in the way.”

“Aye.”

She shot him a timid but hopeful smile. “We have time to catch up now though.”

“How long exactly?” A month or two would work for him. Or even longer. His self imposed leave of absence had just become more appealing than ever.

“A week,” she answered and he struggled to contain his disappointment. “But I don't have to stay that long,” she added in a hurry. “You're welcome to kick me out any time.”

“Not likely,” he muttered under his breath. “Have you eaten?” he asked before things could get too awkward. “I put some cottage pie in the oven not long ago, should be ready.”

Her beautiful face–she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen–stretched into shock. “You cook?” 

“No other way to feed myself,” he chuckled and made his way toward the kitchen, waving for her to follow. 

They ate in his cramped kitchen, discussing their jobs–she was a lawyer and he had no doubt a damn good one. She had always fought for the underdogs. It was why they’d become fast friends in school. 

They moved onto Ghost next as he lay at their feet patiently waiting for scraps. He was a safe subject Jon supposed and Daenerys was fascinated with him, finally growing brave enough to give him some scratches which Ghost thoroughly enjoyed. Jon knew he’d equally enjoy her touch if he ever got the privilege. 

_Gods, Jon. Act like a bloody wanker why don't ya? She didn't come up for you, so stop getting your fool hopes up._

“Bring me your plate and I’ll wash all this up,” she said, startling him. She was standing at the sink already washing her plate. 

He’d completely missed her leaving the table. 

He stood abruptly. “Leave that, I’ll get it. Let's get you settled,” he told her and made for the living room before she could argue. He already had her bags in hand when she joined him. 

She looked at him a bit warily. “If you have an extra blanket to spare, I brought my own pillow.”

Confused for a split second, he scowled at her then realized what she’d meant. “No. I’ll sleep in here.” He nodded toward the hallway. “Bedroom’s through there,” he said, “The bath too.”

“I'm not gonna throw you out of your bed,” she declared. 

“You’re not throwin’ me out of my bed, I’m offerin’ it. This is my fault and you paid. I sleep on the ground more often than not anyhow.”

That brought a worried frown to her face that he didn't care for. Pity wasn't what he'd been hoping to achieve with that small grain of truth. “All the more reason for you to take the bed. I’ll sleep in here,” she said.

He huffed, letting his shoulders fall. “I don't remember you bein’ quite so stubborn back in school.”

A disbelieving snort left her as she rolled her pretty blue eyes. “You weren't paying attention then.”

“Yes, I was,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. 

Her smile was slow to spread but finished on the cheeky side. Face suddenly as hot as the Essosi sun, Jon cursed himself and walked around her and down the hall. 

Blessedly, she'd followed him, curious eyes taking in his personal space, or so he thought. She wouldn't learn much. Practically everything in the house was Benjen's, the bedroom included. He hadn't really changed a thing when he moved in. Knowing he’d be gone more often than not and the state of his bank account had seen to that. Once he had enough to buy new he just didn't see the point. 

He put her bags on the bed and quickly gathered up his own, throwing in the dirty clothes he had piled in the corner over the past several days. The bath was his next stop, his toiletries stashed in a small bag.

They stared at one another when he was done, both frozen to the floor. He wondered if her heart was pounding same as his, if her stomach was twisting and jumping about like some demented hare. Finally he couldn't take the tension anymore and his feet carried him to the door, eyes as blue as the oceans following his every step.

“Night, Dany. See ya tomorrow,” he managed to get out somewhat evenly.

“Goodnight, Jon. Sleep well.”

He seriously doubted that, but went for a polite response anyway. “Aye, you too.”

With the door shut between them the tension rushed out of him so quick he feared his knees might give. He made a beeline for the second bath down the hall, dumping his bags to the floor before turning on the sink and splashing cold water on his face. His reflection mocked him, skin still flushed with heat, his usually dull brown eyes bright. 

“You're fucked, Jon Snow,” he muttered to himself, “So very fucked.”

Twenty minutes later and he was stretched out on his thankfully long sofa. The kitchen was clean again, the fire stoked, and his faithful companion was nudging his hand, eager for his nightly pets. 

Jon patted his stomach until Ghost laid his head down over him. He stroked between his ears, scratched behind them, watching those deep red eyes slide closed with pleasure. 

“Can you believe it?” he whispered to him. 

He talked to him all the time. Ghost knew all his secrets whether he understood them or not. He listened better than any human ever had anyway. And who else did he have to talk to?

“I decide I'm ready to call it quits and make a change and she shows up at our door. What are the odds?” He fisted the thick fur on either side of Ghost's neck and shook him a bit until the wolf cut him an annoyed glare. “Do you think the gods are fuckin’ with me again? Givin’ me a dream and just waitin’ for me to grasp it before they snatch it away?”

Ghost stared at him a moment before shaking loose of his hold and giving a nip to the meaty pad at the base of his thumb. 

Jon cursed and gave him a shove before rubbing at his hand. “Have you never heard the one about not bitin’ the hand that feeds ya, you beast?”

The wolf grumbled and laid his giant head back down for more pets. Jon resumed his scratching. Ghost was right, he was being daft. He’d given up on the gods long ago. Whatever would happen or not between him and Dany was all up to them. 

Question was, would they play things safe again or take the chance they were being given? 

Jon knew which one he hoped for.

  
—

  
He was up before the sun of course, he always was. There wasn't a peep from her end of the house though.

Not wanting to disturb her sleep he went out and chopped wood for a couple hours. They'd need it to keep warm of course, the forecast called for a big storm to come through Sunday evening, possible power outages, but he also wanted to burn off some of the jitters he had. They'd kept him tossing and turning all night, his mind buzzing with the unknown of the week ahead, the ghosts of the past haunting him, and the thrill of a second chance stirring up things he thought were long dead. 

Muscles loose by the time he was done and his thoughts more settled, or at least down to a low buzz of excitement, he was ready to face her again. But she was still asleep or hiding in her room one, so sweaty and stinking he took a shower before cooking them a decent breakfast. 

Just as he was finishing up the eggs she shuffled into the kitchen looking entirely too soft and warm in her oversized sweater with messy hair and rosy cheeks. 

He had to root his feet to the floor so he wouldn't do something insane like wrap himself around her and bury his face in her neck. He swallowed hard and put a smile on for her, hoping it hid his thoughts well enough. “Mornin’ sunshine.”

 _Bloody hells, Jon. Cutesy nicknames? Really?_

A drawn out groan left her and covered his own as she rubbed at her eyes. “I think you're the sunshine, not me,” she muttered, apparently fine with his silly greeting. She gave Ghost a scratch as she came further into the room. “How long have you been awake?” she asked, eyeing the table he’d covered in food. 

It was a proper fry up; sausage, bacon, beans, tomatoes, toast, potatoes, and eggs. He didn't know about her, but he was starving.

Her eyes went wide, hands patting at her hair. “Gods Jon, how many people did you invite?”

“What?” he chuckled, “I didn't invite anyone, this is just for us.”

She looked at him as if he’d gone daft. “You expect the two of us to eat all of that?”

He laughed outright then. “Aye, I do. I could eat it all myself, but I’ll be nice and share with you,” he said as he plated their eggs. He put the pan up and took a seat. “You best eat before it gets cold,” he told her as he speared a sausage with his fork.

Still looking a bit dumbfounded, Dany sat down and slowly began filling her plate. A bit of eggs, a piece of toast and two of bacon. She left the rest for him. “Do you usually eat this much?” she asked after watching him clean one plate then fill it again. 

“No, I normally only get MRE’s when I'm workin’.” At her confused look he explained further. “They're packaged meals for the military and they're abhorrent. So when I'm home, I only eat the good stuff and enough of it to feed an army.”

“Right, suppose I don't blame you then.” 

They ate in silence a bit longer until he found his courage to hopefully move them forward. He wanted to spend as much time with her as he could, but he’d respect her choice if she wanted to keep to herself. “If you don't mind me askin’, what did you have planned?” 

Her eyebrows shot up. “While I was here?” He nodded and she tucked her bottom lip into her mouth, a furrow forming between her eyes. She gave a shrug and winced. “Nothing?”

He smiled. She was as adorable as he remembered and that had something in his stomach flipping about. 

“What about you?” she asked sheepishly.

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Not a damn thing.”

It started as a snicker, but quickly built to full on laughter she smothered with a hand as her eyes danced with light even though he could barely see them they were squinted so. He laughed right along with her. It was much better than thinking about how pitiful it was to not have a single plan for Christmas or a soul to spend it with. 

“What a pair we are,” she lamented once they’d calmed a bit. 

“Aye,” he agreed and very nearly told her he was thankful they were such a pair but somehow managed to keep it to himself. “So, I heard this morning we may get a big storm tomorrow night. I’ve got to go to the market, do some shoppin’. You're welcome to join me, or you can stay here with Gh—”

“I’d love to go,” she blurted over him, her agreement and smile causing his chest to fill with a tingling warmth.

  
—

  
“Please tell me you don't eat that,” she whispered as they stood perusing the meat counter. 

The selection in question was a round mass–five to six pounds of it he guessed–the brown skin stretched so tight by the filling inside that it shone like a polished stone. The infamous Haggis.

Jon chuckled and flashed her a smile. “What? You don't fancy sheep innards?” he asked bumping her side with his elbow. She pulled a face, her revulsion clear and he laughed. “No worries, even I don't eat that. Now Ghost, he’d probably howl with glee if I took that home to him.”

A shudder ran through her. “I’ll gladly buy him a dozen steaks if you promise not to,” she begged.

He laughed again and she looked away biting into her bottom lip, her cheeks rosy. He was shit at reading cues and couldn't tell if she liked his teasing or thought him a dolt. Toning things down was a safe bet though. “I bagged him a deer the other day, he’s good for a while,” he assured her. 

That got her attention, eyes meeting his again. “Did you really?”

“Aye. He’ll eat dog food, but only if he has no other choice. I spoil em as much as I do myself when we're home.”

The butcher came up then to take their order and promised to have it all ready to go in an hour or so. Jon made double sure they had enough to feed an army. He wouldn't have her going hungry if they got snowed in. 

He suggested they hit the other shops while they waited. She eagerly agreed and he led her through the village assuming the role of tour guide. At the first slip of her boot on an icy cobblestone he had her hand trapped in the crook of his arm to help her stay steady. It had nothing to do with how much he enjoyed the feel of her pressed against his side. 

They were coming out of their second stop when Jon spotted a familiar face giving a big smile. 

“Lookie here, my lad’s come home again,” Davos greeted, “All in one piece an’ not alone either.”

Taking a moment to make sure Dany was sure on her feet, Jon let her go and embraced his old friend who had come in for a hug. “Davos, it's good to see ya.”

“Aye, you too, lad.” They stepped away from each other, both turning to her. “An’ who might this lovely lady be?” Davos asked, his old eyes twinkling at her before looking over to Jon for an explanation.

He watched her face flush under their gazes and went back to her side, his arm held out for her to take again. He knew he’d be uncomfortable in the same situation and wanted to ease hers.

“Dany, this is a good friend of mine. Well, he’s more like family really. Davos Seaworth,” he introduced him. “Davos, this is Daenerys—” He froze, his stomach dropping to his feet.“Bloody hells, I didn't even ask,” he grumbled to himself, wiping a hand down his face. Wincing, he leaned in close to her. “Is it still Targaryen?” he whispered. 

A small giggle escaped her, but she nodded and gave him a smile. A breath of relief left him which he would examine later and he turned back to Davos. “Daenerys Targaryen,” he continued. “It's a long story, but we went to school together.”

“Ah well, old friends then,” Davos said and huddled into the warmth of his coat a bit more. 

“Aye. Just showin’ her around while she's visitin’.”

“You bring her to the pub. Have a meal on me.”

Daenerys’ smile widened and turned as bright as the sun. “That's so nice of you,” she told him.

“Like Jon said, he’s practically family. Gotta try to fatten him up when he's home,” Davos replied with a chuckle. “An’ any friend of his is a friend a’ mine.”

“I’ll bring her round before she heads back to Kings Landing,” Jon assured him, trying his best to squash the “introducing his girl to the family” nerves that were steadily building within him. He knew it was far too late to save his heart, but maybe he could keep the damage on the lower side. 

He also knew he was kidding himself.

Davos nodded, obviously pleased if his smile was any indication. He began slowly backing his way down the lane his hand up in a wave. “I'll be watchin’ out for ya. Nice meetin’ ya, miss.” 

“You too,” Dany returned before smiling up at Jon. “I think I like him.” 

More squashing was needed, his chest swelling at the stamp of approval she'd given his chosen family. “Aye, he’s a good soul. One of the best.”

_Just like you._

  
—

  
Jon led them onto their next stop, a quaint little place filled with handmade gifts and all things Christmas. It was beautiful and smelled heavenly. The old lady behind the counter called out to them, offering some of the wassail that was filling the shop with its glorious scent. 

“Oh! That sounds fabulous. Maybe she's spiked it like you do,” she teased him and got the smile she'd been aiming for.

She wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but she was doing all she could to draw those small shy smiles out of him every chance she got. They made her stomach dance and her heart swell to fill her chest. It was addictive.

“Have a look around, I’ll go get us some, and make sure it's spiked,” he said with a wink. 

Her insides bubbling with happiness she wandered through the shop, delighted to realize it was filled with Christmas trees. There were a dozen or more crammed within it, each one more beautiful than the last. 

A few minutes later Jon appeared at her side holding out a foam cup, fragrant steam rising from it. She took it, her eyes falling closed in bliss as she brought it to her mouth and sipped carefully. The sweet and spicy brew had her groaning in pleasure, an uncontrollable smile on her face as she looked up at Jon. “That might be the best thing that's ever happened to my mouth.”

Dark velvet eyes dropped to her lips, his own opening slightly as he shifted on his feet. She knew exactly what he was thinking and she wanted the same.

She took a small step forward, purposely licking her lips just to tease him more. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Sure is a fancy tree,” he stumbled out as he abruptly turned his focus to the Christmas tree they stood beside. 

She chose not to give him grief, though she couldn't contain her smirk. Maybe he wanted to wait until they were alone, back at his house. She was more than fine with that, though she would've gladly taken both. 

“It’s beautiful,” she agreed. “The tree’s my favorite part of Christmas I think. I love the lights.”

“You do yours up this fancy?” he asked.

“I haven't put up a tree in years.” She scrunched up her nose, ignoring the sadness that wanting to rear its ugly head. “Seems silly with no one but me to see it.”

“Here we go being pitiful again,” he chuckled. “Don't know that I’ve had one since I moved into my place.”

They really were a pair. “So no decorations huh?” she asked, hoping he’d say yes. She had an idea. 

He hummed and scratched at his beard. She’d caught him doing it a lot the night before and that morning, it was definitely one of his nervous tells. “Aye, I think there's some in the attic. Benjen's a’course.”

It broke her heart a bit that he still kept himself somewhat separated from his own home. That he hadn't truly made it his. Almost as if he feared he could be booted out with ease, and she wondered if that was the case. What she remembered of his relationship with his family wasn’t the best. It had been a strained one, and unless he’d been fibbing just to keep her to himself, it must still be for them to leave him alone on Christmas.

“Well, there's two of us to enjoy it this year, isn’t there?” she prodded. 

He cocked his pretty head at her, his eyebrows raised. “You want us to put up a tree?”

“Aye,” she answered with a wink and got a bashful smile in return. “Might be nice to spoil ourselves a bit, but if you don't want the mess I—”

“No, if you want a tree, I'll get ya a tree.”

The world tilted under her feet with his simple but devastatingly sweet declaration and she felt herself fall. She was so very, very fucked. She'd suspected it for nearly all of the last dozen years, but now she knew for certain. 

Standing right in front of her in the form of one beautiful Jon Snow, was the love of her life.

  
—

  
By the time they’d returned to the house–the whole village walked from one end to the other–it was late afternoon and getting dark. She wasn't disappointed, Jon had told her they would need several hours to find a tree so they had decided to begin their hunt after an early breakfast the next morning. 

They had spent the rest of that evening putting up groceries and cooking Jon’s secret stew for their dinner. It was beyond delicious and she decided she would never question his tastes again, nor tease him for his cooking skills. Skills that only added to his attractiveness which was already at dangerous levels, or near perfect ones. However one chose to look at it.

After eating and cleaning their mess up they plundered through the attic for tree decorations, finding one string of lights that worked and two small boxes of ornaments, a third of which were broken. 

“That's not gonna make for a very pretty tree,” Jon had muttered. “We should've bought trimmings at that shop. We can go back?” he offered looking like a pitiful puppy.

She wanted to squish his cheeks and give a kiss to those pouty lips, but kept her feet rooted. “Nonsense. It’ll be perfect. And this way we only need a little one,” she’d told him, determined to add more cheer to their holiday, even if it might be a tad on the sad side.

The boxes were still stacked in the living room where they’d left them the night before and they had finished breakfast in record time. They needed to stay ahead of the storm.

“The weather's holding, we should be good,” he said as he came back in from warming the Rover up for her. 

She was slipping on her coat, too excited by far to go on their tree hunt. She'd never cut her own before, what few she'd had were either fake or bought at a tree lot.

Jon was frowning at her when she looked up. “You need more layers,” he grumbled. “You’ll freeze to death in that. Did you not bring a better coat?”

She wanted to laugh at his sour protectiveness, but managed to refrain. “We don't have much need of coats in Kings Landing and I wasn’t planning on hiking through the woods while I was here so I didn't bother buying a heavier one,” she defended herself. “It was fine yesterday.”

“Aye well, you were goin’ in and out of warm shops and ridin’ in the Rover. We’ll be out in the cold for a couple hours.” He took off toward his room. “I should have something, hang on.”

Resisting the urge to follow him, she instead indulged herself with a moment of privacy so she could smile as big as her heart wanted. He was worried about her getting too cold. It was silly, but it had been so long since anyone had shown her such care, especially a man she felt something for. One she loved. 

She'd tossed and turned once they’d retired to their separate sleeping quarters the night before. The urge to drag him to bed with her had been almost too much to resist. And she couldn't stop herself from wondering how long his leave of absence would be and if things went well between them if she could convince him to visit her in Kings Landing. 

While she was determined to not go home without making her feelings known, she wasn't sure Jon was at the same point yet. He’d always been so respectful, she knew she would probably have to make the first move, but she didn't want to make him think she was only interested in the physical. It was much more than that. 

“It might be a bit big,” he said coming back into the room an army green coat in hand, giving a quizzical look at her giddy smile. 

“No worries!” she chirped and made to take it from him, but he held it open for her and waited, shaking it when she didn't take the hint. Biting her lip to control herself she slipped her arms in. “Thank you.”

He spun her around and began zipping her up into the fluffy mass of nylon and down and fur. Her heart was pounding in her ears threatening to come straight out of her chest. She wasn't sure if it was the coat or just his nearness, but her head was suddenly filled with the scent of him and it was making her dizzy and nearly euphoric. He was so close she could count every long dark eyelash he had. She'd only need to lean forward a scant few inches to feel those lush lips against hers. Or to kiss away the furrow between his brows, bury her fingers in his inky locks. 

The air had left her lungs by the time he looked up, the zipper pulled to her throat. He was as frozen as her once their eyes locked. A breath left him and she felt a thousand feelings exchanged within the space between them. Whatever had bloomed to life all those years ago was just as far from dead for Jon as it was for her. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the air around them, the way it sparked and pulled.

Daring to test fate she reached up and took his hand from where it still hung onto her zipper. A flash of disappointment marred his beautiful face before she erased it, linking her fingers with his and squeezing tight. “Let's go find our tree,” she whispered.

There was barely an ounce of shyness to be found in his responding smile as he squeezed her hand back and tugged her toward the door, but she found she loved it as much as all the rest. 

They loaded up in his Rover again, Ghost joining them and taking up the entire back seat. She didn't think she would ever not be in awe of his sheer size. Jon found them some Christmas tunes to listen to and they rode for a good half hour, him pointing out this place or that. She remembered some of them easily, others not so much. 

“You seem to be on a mission, I take it you have a spot in mind?” she asked when he fell quiet on her. 

“Aye. The Wolf’s Wood. Uncle Ned always got our trees there.”

“How is he?” He’d been so kind the few times she’d seen him back in school. She should've asked after them all sooner, but as she watched a sadness wash over Jon like a dark shadow she suddenly wished she hadn't asked at all. “Nevermind. I shouldn't have prodded,” she tried, attempting to save him any more upset. 

His hand flexed around the steering wheel as he let out a sigh. “It's alright.” He went quiet again, so long she believed he’d taken her up on the offer to forget it. She kept her eyes on the road ahead of them to give him what privacy she could in the tight space. Jon didn't take advantage of it. “He was killed two years after you left, Robb a year after that,” he told her, his voice an empty husk. 

Her heart fell to her feet. “Oh Jon,” she gasped. “I'm so sorry.”

His beautiful face twisted with pain as he shook his head. “Not your fault. War has no mercy. It took Rickon and his mother too. Nearly did me and Bran. The girls didn't fight, but they didn't fair well either. Sansa's the only one left up here besides me. She keeps to herself. Bran’s down in Kings Landing at school and Arya… Well, there's no tellin’ where she's at. Travelin’ the world. She checks in on occasion.”

Dany reached over and put her hand over his where it rested on the shifter. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tear off a scab and stir up such painful things,” she whispered. Her heart simply broke for him.

His thumb ran over her pinkie. “S’alright. You didn't know, and it's too much to pretend it didn't happen.” He pulled the Rover to a stop and she looked out the windshield to see a beautiful old grown forest ahead of them. Jon pulled his hand from beneath hers and squeezed it, a tight smile on his sweet face. “Come on, let's go find you a tree.”

“ _Us_ a tree,” she corrected softly. 

“Aye.” He winked at her as he got out and ran around to her door before she could get it halfway open and helped her out. 

Ghost was freed from his cramped quarters in the back seat, immediately taking off at a run. Jon slung the saw over his shoulder and they followed after him, tromping into the forest. 

He kept a firm grip on her hand, though the snow was thin, dry, and powdery beneath the trees. She was in no danger of slipping, or letting him get out of sight, but she wasn't going to point that out and lose the tentative connection she had with him. 

His hand in hers just felt right, and whether he was keeping her close for her sake or his own she didn't care, both worked for her. At the very least she hoped he was getting comfort from it. He’d been quiet since they’d started walking, memories of his family pulling at him no doubt. She had to fight the need to stop them and just hold him for a time, but knew while he’d appreciate it, it would make him even more melancholy.

“How far do you think we'll need to go?” she asked to move his mind from where she'd taken it. 

“Shouldn't have to go too far. There's a patch of furs up this way,” he told her, pointing ahead of them and to the right. “You cold yet?”

She chuckled, but took stock of herself. Her nose was definitely cold, and her feet too, but nothing so terrible she wanted to turn back. “I'm good so far,” she bumped her shoulder into his, “thanks to you and your preparedness, ranger Jon.”

His smile returned, the haunting sadness gone for the time being. “Couldn't have you freezin’. You might decide you hate it up here and go home early.”

“Oooh, so it was just to keep me around, huh?”

Those big chocolate eyes went a bit owlish. “Well no, I uh—”

She leaned into him. “I'm teasing you.” He let out a soft laugh, eyes dropping to their feet and a brighter flush coloring his cheeks. She squeezed his fingers. “And I don't have any plans to leave until I absolutely have to,” she assured him quietly.

That got another lovely smile from him, but he went silent on her again. She didn't poke and prod at him anymore though, just enjoying the walk with him and the beauty that surrounded them. The forest was so quiet, only the hush of the slowly falling snow drifting down through the towering trees and the soft crush of it under their boots to be heard. She almost wanted them to stop and just soak it in. 

How often did one get a chance to be in such a tranquil place, hundreds of miles from the nearest city, crowded with people, filled with constant noise?

“Something else isn't it?” he murmured. Apparently he’d been watching her.

“It is,” she agreed meeting his smile with one of her own. “I'm not sure that I’ve ever been anywhere else quite so peaceful, or beautiful. Thank you for bringing me.”

He chuffed. “It was your idea to get a tree.”

“Yeah, but I would've never known to bring us here.”

His shoulders gave a shrug. He was still so humble and sweet, just as he’d been when they were young. She wondered if he ever took credit for anything he did, realized how good he was. Yes, she'd only been with him for a few days, but she hadn't seen a single thing about him she didn't like, quite the opposite in fact. Time hadn’t changed him. He was as wonderful as ever.

“I almost wish we'd left Ghost at the house,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. 

“Why?” she asked, not understanding at all. It seemed the perfect place to bring him.

“We might’ve seen some deer. He scares em all away.”

“Well maybe, but he’s just as beautiful running around.”

He was, majestic even as he loped through the trees, free and wild, perfectly at home. Just as Jon was here in the North. She couldn’t imagine him anywhere else. The thoughts she had of asking him to come South with her began to wither away. He’d be miserable down there. 

“Aye, I’ve been known to bring him up here and let him run loose for a day or two. He loves it.”

“I bet.”

“Here we are,” he said.

She’d had her mind on the future and eyes on Jon and his wolf so was shocked when he stopped. The path they seemed to have been following had opened up to a meadow of sorts. One filled with gorgeous fur trees of all sizes, their branches covered in fluffy blankets of snow. 

“Whatcha think? See one you like?”

A bubble of laughter escaped her. “All of them?” Jon rolled his eyes at her, his smirk endearing as he shoved his hands in his pockets. She looped her arm through his and smiled up at him. “Help me pick?”

He led her into the thick of them, pursuing through their choices. Nicking off one and then the next: crooked, dumpy, too skinny, too tall. Any silly reason at all he could find. She was in a fit of giggles by the time he finally he found one he couldn't complain about. “This one? Not too big, not too little?”

She had to agree, all his pickiness had led them to a gem. “It’s perfect,” she gushed then whimpered, “I almost hate to cut it.”

Jon laughed at her and proceeded to kneel in the snow and saw it down. It only took him a few minutes and he had it held up by the middle of the trunk for her inspection. “Ta da,” he exclaimed with a radiant smile. “Merry Christmas.”

She laughed. He was too adorable for words and she found herself hugging him, just as she had two days before only that time Jon’s responding hug was surer, tighter, lasted longer. Longer than a hug between simple friends. 

“Merry Christmas, Jon.” More than a little reluctant, she slowly let him go, a shiver running through her at the mixture of heat and softness in his eyes as they stared down into hers. She knew he would kiss the hell out of her if she but gave him a hint of permission, and gods did she want to, but she feared once they started they wouldn't stop until they'd had one another completely. 

A cold, snowy forest floor was not the place for that. And as much as she wanted them both to give into the intense tug and pull between them, they needed to talk. That night she decided. She'd tell him how she felt, how she had always felt and see where the pieces fell. 

“Ready to take it home?” she asked, sure to keep her smile on.

“Aye, let's get it home,” he agreed, appearing as happy about the prospect as she was. 

  
—

  
Two hours later they stood back to inspect their work. 

“That's the most pitiful tree I’ve ever seen,” Jon muttered.

She flung a hand into his hard stomach. “It is not, you hush that! It's precious,” she declared, protective of the little tree that had somehow became a symbol of the fragile thing growing between them. 

He gave a snort. “Precious?”

“Yes, _precious_. And sweet and right and lovely, and—”

He cut her off with a brilliant smile. “I get it, you like it.”

“I love it,” she whispered and leaned over placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” he breathed out, a bit dazed, his grin gloriously goofy. 

Any show of affection she gave seemed to set him spinning, that time was no different. Before she could blink he was squatted down in front of the fire, poker in hand, stirring it up then adding more wood. He was on his feet again a moment later. “Sit and enjoy it. I’ll go get our dinner started.”

“No, I’ll come help. Do you mind if I change real quick?”

She swore his eyes dilated, the deep brown swallowed by black. He scratched through the thick curls at his nape. “No, course not. Now that you mention it… It might be best if we shower now. That storm is bearin’ down, it's possible it’ll knock the power out if we get as much snow and ice as they claim. Freezin’ baths aren't fun,” he chuckled.

“Gosh, I didn’t even think of that. You’re right, we better,” she agreed. “Will there be enough hot water for both of us?” 

It was a legitimate question, but it was also on the tip of her tongue to be naughty and ask him to join her. He’d probably go up in flames right there in the middle of the living room floor if she did. The deep blush creeping up his neck was proof of that. 

“Aye, should be. I’ll give ya a five minute head start though,” he said, fingers scratching at his beard. 

“Okay, meet ya in the kitchen in twenty,” she said with a wink and left him flushed and flustered as she ran to the bath, jumping in the shower. 

While washing as quickly as possible, she fretted over what to put on after. Jeans and a jumper would be safest, certainly warmest, but that wasn't the message she wanted to send him. Her favorite silky negligee she never left home without would be the most honest, even if it was old and worn, but that was too forward. She had thought to bring a thermal set. They wouldn’t reveal a bit of skin, but they fit like a second one. If Jon liked curves he’d get an eyeful. She’d leave her bra off for good measure. 

She found Jon in the kitchen standing at the counter slicing one of the loaves of bread they’d bought the day before. The sight of him nearly stopped her heart. A black long sleeve shirt clung to his muscled arms, stretched across his wide shoulders, hugged his lean sides and trim waist, while a pair of simple grey sweatpants stole her breath. 

Just like her it seemed he’d dressed to impress.

He’d always been put together nicely, but his arse in those pants was something altogether better than nice. She actually feared her reaction once he turned around. 

Instead of drawing his attention so he would do just that she padded lightly across the floor on her socked feet. Somehow she managed to keep her hands to herself when she stepped up to his side. 

He didn't startle, just looked up with a soft smile. It slowly faded as his dark eyes took her in, his tongue darting out to lick his full lips once they landed on her chest. _Bingo!_ When those eyes closed and he breathed deep she swore she heard him whisper something about the Gods above. 

“What can I do to help?” she asked and bit her lip so she wouldn't giggle. 

He cleared his throat and shook his damp curls. “Got the stew warmin’, bout to put this bread in the oven. You could make us some tea?”

“How about I make us some hot toddy's instead?” She'd added some groceries of her own to their market trip. 

His smile came back and he nodded toward the cabinet to her left. “Brandy and such is up there.”

She plucked the kettle from the stove and filled it at the sink, a gasp leaving her as she caught sight of view before her. “Jon look.” 

He stepped over, his shoulder pressing into hers. A whiff of his soap filled her nose sending a flurry through her belly. “It started just before you came in,” he told her.

She tore her eyes away from his and watched the flakes falling outside his window. They were the biggest she'd ever seen. It looked as if lace doilies were floating down from the sky. Almost like all the grandmothers and nannies who had passed on were sending down tokens of their love. 

“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” she breathed. 

“Aye, I have,” came a rumble in her ear, warm and soft and close. 

With another gasp she looked up to find his eyes firmly fixed on hers, the sweet heat glowing in them causing her heart to give a hard thump. She was beginning to realize she wasn't in the game alone. Jon was picking at her knots just as she was his. 

She poked a finger into his rippled stomach. “Charmer.”

He winked at her, his grin airing on the side of cocky. He glanced back out the window before returning to his bread slicing. “Good thing we got food bought up. Might not be able to get out again for a few days.”

“Whatever will we do?” she dared to tease. 

“I can think of a few things,” he shot back, giving her a heated look.

Her mouth fell open in mock offense and he proceeded to laugh his perfect arse off at her. 

They decided to have their dinner in the living room, seated on the floor, backs against the couch, feet stretched out to the fire that was still crackling happily. She praised his cooking again, the stew even better the second go around, and Jon returned it, her hot toddy recipe _hitting the spot._

It wasn’t quite Christmas yet, but with Jon beside her, their little tree glowing softly in the corner, the fire warming their outsides, and the toddy’s their insides, Dany couldn’t think of a better way to spend the holiday. Well… except for one other. 

But for that she had to get something out in the open first. 

She took his empty bowl from his lap and stacked it into hers before sitting them off to the side and turning toward him, curling up, feet tucked as she leaned against the couch. Her hand itched to reach over and play in his loose curls, she rested her head in it instead. Hopefully she’d get both of them on all of him soon enough.

Jon was looking at her expectantly while he sipped his toddy. It was his third. Luckily his cups were small so he wasn’t too tipsy yet. She needed him to hear her, to remember it tomorrow and every day after that. 

“We haven’t talked about it much, but I was thinking last night, while I was trying to fall asleep…”

_Gods, could she do this? Tell him that he’d always been the one?_

“Bout what?” he prodded when she’d stayed quiet too long.

“About school. That year we had.”

A warm smile stretched his sweet face as he leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “It was a good one, wasn’t it?”

“It was. The best one.”

He turned and looked at her. His cheeks were flushed, from the fire, the toddy, or the rising tension between them she wasn't sure. Probably all three. “For me too,” he said, his voice low and rough. 

She had to look down for fear she'd jump ahead and never say what she needed to. Her fingers played with a loose string on the old rug they sat on. He was seated less than an inch away from it. She could feel the heat of him against her skin. 

_Speak Daenerys. Spit it out. Tell him._

“You were the first person here to talk to me, to include me.” She steeled herself and met his eyes, big and round and so very soft. She wanted to fall into them. “You were my first friend. Not just here, but anywhere.”

A perfect pout formed on his pretty face. He shook his head. “No, that can't be.”

“Yes it can,” she corrected. “I expected to hate it here, but it turned out to be the best year of my life. And I don’t just mean before then, I mean ever. All because of you,” she told him softly. He was still pouting, a dozen questions dancing in his dark eyes, so she went on, intent to answer them before he had a chance to ask. “I’ve lived since then, learned things I wish I hadn't needed to know. But I guess they're why I understand now. I didn't all those years ago. I knew it was big, what I felt for you, I just didn't know how big. I do now and spending these last few days with you, I know nothing’s changed.” 

She expected him to bolt, or at the very least give a nervous laugh, he did neither, sitting his cup to his left and turning toward her instead, one arm propped on the couch the other on his raised knee, his face serene. “Are you sayin’ what I think you're sayin’?”

She let her hand drop to his where it dangled off the couch and linked their fingers together. “I am.”

He didn't respond, just stared at her, eyes so warm and tender she thought she may melt. A deep breath was drawn in and slowly let out. He swallowed. Licked his lips. 

She was going to lose her mind!

“Jon, say something. _Please_ ,” she begged.

He smiled, slow and sweet and leaned closer. A gentle hand came up and brushed her hair behind her ear, the backs of his fingers slid down her cheek. “You’ve come into my life like a sudden storm twice now. The first time I was a fool and just watched you, kept you at arm's length to protect us, afraid of what would happen if I got too close.”

“And now?” she asked, her heart simply stalled within her ribs, trembling like a leaf on a limb.

Before she could even think to protest, not that she would have, Jon scooped her up and sat her over his lap. As she caught her equilibrium his hands slid up to her face, cupping it tenderly. “I'm still afraid, but I’m not going to let it stop me this time,” he told her, all husky and deep. “All I’ve ever wanted was to have you for my own, to be yours in return.” 

Then he finally, _finally_ kissed her. Hands buried in her hair, holding her captive. Lips as soft as she had dreamed brushed hers again and again. Every inch of her sparking and tingling, her breath lost at the velvet touch of his tongue against hers, the silky slide, the taste of him warm and sweet and citrusy. It took all she had not to devour him, to match his tenderness. To keep her heart within her chest. To not grind against the bulge nestled between her thighs.

Too soon he pulled away, eyes heavy and full of want and love, gazing at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A rush of air left him and somehow he seemed lighter, all the shadows fleeing from around him. “This alright?” he asked.

She took his precious face in her hands and pulled him back in. “Nothing has ever been more alright,” she whispered against his lips.

“Then hold that thought,” he murmured and gave her another kiss before turning to his furry friend who was sleeping peacefully sprawled across the couch behind them. “Ghost, to bed,” he ordered.

Deep red eyes opened and flicked between them, appearing more than a little annoyed at having his slumber disturbed. “Ghost,” Jon repeated, low and firm. The great beast did as he was told, but he made his feelings known as he dropped his long front legs to the floor with a growling huff and proceeded to slowly pull himself off the couch in a long drawn out stretch that had Dany smothering giggles in Jon’s neck. He was laughing as well, though silently, shaking them both. She felt him throw his arm out and slap the couch. “Get, you ornery beast,” he tried to scold. His laughter kind of ruined it. Ghost finally made himself scarce, slinking off down the hall. 

“You’re gonna make him hate me,” she giggled.

“Nah,” he drawled and cut her a sly smirk, “but if you don't mind him watchin’...”

“Oh gods no!” she squeaked, her hands flying to her heated face, feeling suddenly silly and unstrung like some love struck ninny. 

His rough laughter somehow rolled down her spine, leaving her to tremble on his lap. “That's what I thought,” he husked and pulled her hands away to reveal his adorable smile. “You okay?”

She nodded and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “I'm wonderful,” she whispered. “You?”

“Never better,” he breathed barely loud enough for her to hear as his hands ran up her thighs and round her arse to her back, slipping beneath her shirt. She shivered to feel his touch against her skin, the craving for it gone on far too long. His nose brushed hers. “Can I kiss you again?”

She smiled because how could she not and slid her fingers into his glorious curls. “You can kiss me anytime you want.”

A deep rumbling hum sounded in his chest as he pressed her body to his, hands splayed across her back, plush mouth descending on hers. “I’m gonna take you up on that.”

And he did, kissing her absolutely stupid within moments. All of her trembled and quaked, lungs snatching for air, the deep burning ache rising and spreading until she was near madness. His sinful mouth stealing all her senses, his hands everywhere, calloused and cool yet somehow leaving fire in their wake. They were on her breasts now, nipples trapped between fingers and thumbs.  
Her shirt was gone, when she didn’t know nor care. 

His mouth never left hers as he reached up to the couch and pulled off the quilt he’d been using for covers. Somehow he managed to spread it out over the floor between them and the fireplace and laid her down. 

He sat back on his haunches and pulled the rest of her clothes slowly down her legs, the heat in his eyes as he devour her naked body with them searing her soul. A grunting sort of growl left him and ripped his shirt off before dropping back over her. 

But tears stung the back of her eyes as she took in the scars marring his beautiful body. Up close, rough and ragged beneath her hands, they were vicious blows to her heart, filling it with a sickening fear. How she hadn’t lost him…

Fingers slipped across her cheek and into her hair. “Hey, look at me.” She did and the air rushed back into her lungs at the sight of his beautiful brown eyes, bright and full of life, staring down into hers. “I’m right here. I’m okay now,” he whispered. 

“Love me, Jon. Please,” she begged.

He kissed her again, lips and cheek and nose, his body taut and tense over hers. “I do, I will, but…”

Her eyes flicked to his, heart faltering. “What is it?”

“It’s been ages since…” His sweet face twisted with chagrin. “I’m clean, I swear, but I don’t have any condoms,” he confessed and relief flooded her.

Reaching up she stroked her fingers over his jaw, her nails lightly scraping through his beard. “I’m on the pill,” she assured him then scrunched her nose. “Girl problems. Clean too, _for ages_ ,” she added with a slight smile.

He seemed to deflate the tension left him so quickly. “Thank the gods,” he rushed out on a heavy sigh. 

Done with waiting, _gods she was so done with waiting_ , she began tugging and pushing at the waist of his pants as she pulled kisses from his lips. “Off Jon, get them off.”

He didn't have to be told twice and a breath later he was as bare as her, another and they were finally one. 

Their bodies took over, their hearts as well, needs and wants and love all spun together and carrying them away. To a place they'd yearned for so long, a place only for them, to lose themselves to all else save each other. Safe there, no past to haunt them, or future to taunt them, they gave over until they splintered into a thousand sparkling shards.

They collapsed into a mess of loose limbs and heaving breaths. But held each other close, hands still running over skin, fingers delving into hair. Soft kisses and smiles exchanged. 

“We were bloody fools to wait so long,” he breathed out after a few moments of the tender silence. 

“We were kids, we didn't know.”

“I knew. Deep down I knew. Never stopped knowin’.”

She sighed and tucked herself against his chest. “I did too,” she admitted, “but perhaps we needed all the time apart. To learn, to grow up, to really know.”

“Aye. You're probably right. Doesn't make me regret not taking off to go find you any less. I'm sorry I didn't.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, but I’m sorry I didn't either.”

Jon wrapped his arms around her tighter and kissed her head. The fire had burned down to glowing embers and now that they weren't exerting themselves she felt the chill on her damp skin. She shivered and snuggled into him closer. 

“Take me to bed?”

Rough hands splayed wide and ran over her prickled skin, fingers gripping as he and nuzzled the side of her face, kisses left on her temple, cheek, and jaw. “Aye, let's go to bed.”

  
—

  
The howling wind woke him and he huddled further beneath the thick covers and closer to the warm soft body lying next to his. He was still wrapping his head around her coming back into his life at all, so the night before felt like a dream. The best one he’d ever had. 

She stirred against him, curves firm, skin hot, scorching him down to his bones everywhere it touched his. He couldn't contain his hands, drawn to her bare flesh like magnets as she rolled over and slung a thigh over his hip. 

He brushed wisps of white gold hair off her sleepy face and pressed a kiss to her forehead once her beautiful ocean eyes fluttered open. “Mornin’,” he husked, the cold air having dried out his throat. 

Her smile melted away the last bit of chill he felt and warmed him head to toe. “Good morning.”

“Sleep alright?”

She hummed, her eyes closing again before she tucked her head beneath his chin. “Best I have in a long time.”

Hearing that made him almost puff up with pride, but he quashed it. She'd done the same for him. “Aye, me too.”

“That storm sounds rough out there. How bad are we snowed in?”

“Haven't looked, it's too cold out there and warm right here,” he teased, wiggling and shivering as he wrapped himself around her. 

She giggled and it was the best sound he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it everyday for the rest of his days. But as of that morning, he only had four.

“What are we gonna do?”

His dreary tone had her rolling back and taking in what he knew was his brooding pout, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of her walking out of his life again broke something inside him.

“About?”

“You leave in—”

Her fingers pressed against his lips and she shook her head, a sadness filling her eyes that tore at his heart. “I don't want to think about it. Can we forget it's happening for a few days and just enjoy each other?”

They could and he meant for them to, but Friday was a dark spector hovering at the edge of his sight and the soldier in him was on alert, knew the better prepared he was to face it the better the outcome would be. But those blue green eyes staring into his soul, begging him even, kept the protests behind his teeth. He wouldn't upset her, couldn't. 

“Aye, we can,” he agreed quietly and proceeded to banish the dark thoughts from their minds.

  
—

  
They barely left the bed on Monday. Determined to be as close to each other as they could be, almost as if they were making up for lost time, or trying to exhaust themselves into oblivion so they wouldn’t think of the looming end headed their way.

By Christmas Eve the sun was out again, melting away at least a foot of the two feet the storm had brought them. They ventured out long enough for Jon to shovel the drive and to build a snowman that Ghost demolished in one leap. They even threw a few snowballs at each other. An excuse to go back inside and take a hot shower together. 

After another round of love making they decided to see if the Rover could make it to the village, it was the last night Davos would be open until the weekend and they’d promised to stop in.

Jon knew the back entrance would have to be cleared so he drove them around there and they entered through the kitchen. 

Davos hollered out the moment he saw them from where he stood at the bar. “Ho! Survived the great storm, did ya?”

Jon heard Dany giggle behind him. He loved her immediate and happy acceptance of his surrogate father. It meant more to him than it probably should've, but he couldn't change it.

He threw a hand up in greeting. “Aye, still got all our toes and fingers too,” he called back as he took them to the booth Davos was pointing at. It was back in the corner where they’d have privacy, not that the pub was at all crowded. There were only a few locals at the bar having their early evening pints. It was Christmas Eve after all. 

He let Dany choose the side she wanted and moved to take the other, but she grabbed him by the back pocket of his jeans and pulled him down to sit beside her. A stupid grin took his face, but he didn't much care. 

Davos came round with two pints for them just as he was stealing a kiss from her smiling lips. “Careful now, Old man Wallers sees ya and he may have a fit of the vapors,” he teased looking around at the village’s resident curmudgeon glaring at them from his barstool.

Dany's eyes went wide, her cheeks pink and he and Davos had a chuckle over it, but he rubbed his hand over her thigh to soothe her embarrassment. “What's the special tonight, my friend?”

“Well, bein’ it's Christmas Eve the missus went with pork pie. But I can always do up some fish and chips if that's not to your likin’.”

Jon looked at Dany and she appeared a bit panicked despite her smile. “What's in pork pie?” she asked quietly, doing her best to be polite and not insult the establishment. 

He had to bite back a bark of laughter remembering her aversion to haggis. “It's the good parts of the pig. No innards, I promise,” he assured her. “Ground meat, spices, some veggies. All baked in a thick crust.”

She looked up at Davos her smile easy now. “I’ll take the pork pie, please sir.”

“Same for me,” Jon told him. 

His old friend gave them a wink and headed toward the kitchen. Jon squeezed her thigh. “You’ll like it if you like my stew.”

“I love your stew.”

 _And I love you._

The words nearly slipped out, but something that important didn't need to be blurted out in a pub no matter how much he wanted to say it. He scrambled to give his mouth something else to talk about. 

“I wish the storm hadn't come through.”

She cocked her pretty head. “Why?” she asked, her expressive eyebrows twisting comically. “Spending the day in bed with me that bad?”

“Fuck no,” he protested with a snort. “Nothin’ could be better than that.” He laid his hand over her thrumming fingers and laced his with them. “I just wish I could've had time to buy you a present to open tomorrow.”

She seemed to melt in front of him, her sly smirk turning into a watery smile. “Jon. I don’t need a present silly,” she whispered before leaning in and giving him a soft kiss. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

He dropped his forehead to hers, an overwhelming happiness he never knew possible filling him. “Funny, that's all I want too.”

“That so?”

“Aye, you’re my Christmas wish come true.”

“Did you really wish for me?”

“I’ve been wishing for you for years.”

She made a funny little noise in the back of her throat and her fingers tightened around his, but Davos walked up with their food and the moment was lost. He loved the old man, but he wanted to strangle him right then. 

Instead he asked him to join them for a bit, and listened as he chatted away with Dany about Kings Landing. Flea Bottom was his old stomping grounds and where most of her clients came from so they had lots to talk about. Which in Jon’s mind was much better than Davos telling stories on him. But soon enough they were done and it was time to close the pub so his friend could go home to his family. He gave them both a hug and wished them a happy Christmas before locking up behind them.

Jon was walking Dany to her door when she stopped and cocked her head. “Listen… What's that?”

He held his breath to catch what she’d heard. It only took him a moment to recognize it. “That’s the choir down at the church. They always have a hymn service on Christmas Eve.”

“It sounds so beautiful.” She looked like a kid outside the toy store, waiting with wide hopeful eyes for permission to go inside.

He bit back a chuckle. “You wanna go listen awhile?” He hadn't been in years, but always had as a kid. Catelyn Stark insisted. Though it was the one time a year Jon had never minded being dragged to church. 

“Really?” she asked.

“If you want, yeah.” He glanced at his watch. “They’ll be at it for another hour at least.”

She gave him one of those smiles that had his heart fit to burst out of his chest. “I think I’d like that.”

“Then that's what we’ll do,” he told her and held his arm out for her to take. They’d have to walk, there wouldn't be parking any closer.

That got him a kiss on the cheek. “You're too good to me, Jon Snow.”

He shook his head and left a peck on hers as he led them down the snowy street to the church a couple blocks down. “No such thing.”

“Are we bad people leaving a pub to go to church?” she asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“At least we're not leavin’ the church to go to the pub,” he joked and relished in her happy laughter.

They slipped inside a few minutes later both struck by the voices filling every inch of the small church. Dany's face showed her awe, they'd barely got the door closed behind them and she looked ready to cry. But singing such as that never failed to stir something in him so he understood. They found a seat in the back doing their best to be quiet. Not a soul noticed them, everyone lost in the beautiful voices, the giant tree, and glowing candles. 

Dany pressed into his side, his hand held tight in her lap, a look of tranquility taking over her perfect face. Feeling more at ease than he had in an age he sat back and let himself enjoy it.

Sometime during the third song he glanced over at her and saw a tear slide down her cheek. His heart gave a jolt and he had his arm around her and his lips at her ear a breath later. “You alright?” 

She looked up at him and smiled as she wiped her tear away. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “Just happy I’m here with you. There's nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He had to swallow at the sudden knot in his throat, managing to give her a quick smile before he had to press his face to her hair so he wouldn't fall apart right there. “Me either,” he got out, thankful he didn't need to talk above a whisper.

He reached his other hand across to her and she clasped it tight in both of hers. And that's how they stayed until it was over. After taking a moment to light a candle each they left arm and arm, a quiet peace between them and no need to fill it with anything. Not a word was spoken on the drive back, or as they settled in for the night. Not even as they slowly undressed each other and slipped into bed. 

They made love as they had the nights before, but altogether different too. Things had shifted between them, more pieces locking themselves together, cracks and seams stitching closed. The warm beckoning light of home growing brighter. 

  
—

  
For the next two days they chased away the encroaching sadness as best they could, every moment either spent in each other's arms or close to it. Friday morning was banished from their conversations until it finally arrived and they had no way to avoid it. 

He sat on her bed, _his bed… their bed._

_Bloody fuckin’ hells._

She was packing and he was watching scared to death he might weep. He felt sick, his heart trembling quick as a rabbit behind his ribs, a cold sweat soaking into his thermals, stomach in queasy knots. 

The shameful thought of keeping her captive had crossed his mind more than he cared to admit. It was only the strong suspicion she wouldn’t fight him for more than a few minutes, if at all, that kept him from questioning his sanity too much. 

He couldn’t even look at her anymore. Fat tears had swam in her big blue eyes the moment he entered the room, her full bottom lip trapped between her teeth to stop its quivering. He’d gone to her in two strides and wrapped her in his arms, holding her until they’d gathered their strength back. Both of them had been silent ever since.

But as he watched her zip the last bag closed he couldn’t stay mute a moment longer. “Call the cabbie and cancel. Let me drive you to the airport at least,” he asked for the second time. She’d told him no earlier that morning and by the look on her face he knew she would again. It hurt like a bitch, but he understood, sort of.

“It’ll be easier this way,” she whispered, “At least it’ll just be the cabbie that has to cope with my wailing and not everyone on the plane.”

He pulled her onto his lap and she came willingly, her arms circling his neck, a damp cheek pressed to his. 

“I’ve never had a better Christmas,” she breathed into his ear, the words strained and strangled. 

He held her tighter, buried his face in her sweet smelling hair, drawing in all he could in hopes at least that part of her would stay with him. “Me either, I couldn't be happier you showed up at my door.” 

“Maybe you’ll show up at mine next.”

“Tell me when and I’ll be there.”

A horn honked outside and his heart fell to his feet. He had the fleeting thought to send Ghost out to terrorize them until they fled. 

“It’s not goodbye,” she whispered, voice tiny and tight as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. She stood from his lap but he held onto one hand unable to let her go. She brought them both to his cheek, eyes swimming with tears as they met his. “We’ll see each other again. Soon.”

He nodded, swallowed hard. “We promised.”

“We did, and we'll keep it this time.”

Her fingers slipped from his, the door shut, and he sat frozen and empty listening to the cab drive away with his heart.

  
—

  
He plunked himself down on one of Davos’ bar stools without a word of greeting. Two hours without her there and his house felt more like a prison than a home. Unable to take it anymore he ran. 

Thankfully his old friend knew him well and had a shot glass filled to the brim with whiskey in front of him a moment later. 

“Let me guess, that pretty lady of yours left.”

Jon nodded and downed his shot. Davos gave him another before crossing his arms and leaning over the bar, those old blue eyes digging for truths. “I know you're not much for sharin’, but how is it she was here spendin’ Christmas with ya and I’ve never heard of her?”

“She wasn't here to spend it with me,” he grumbled into his glass before draining it. 

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Jon breathed deep and sighed harder as he rubbed at the incessant tension that had taken up residence behind his eyes. “She came to spend it here, at my house, not knowin’ it was my house. I was there cause the service told me no one had it rented,” he explained. 

Davos rose up on his hands, smiling bright. “A Christmas miracle.”

He snorted bitterly. “I thought so too, for a week anyway. Now it feels more like a curse. Gettin’ the dream you want most only for it to be snatched away again.” He tapped the shot glass against the bar two times. 

Davos got the hint and poured him another double. “Who says you can't go after it? Snatch it back?”

“I want to, more than anything,” he confessed.

“Then why the fuck you sittin’ in my pub broodin’ and drinkin’ up all my whiskey?”

_Because I'm a fool. Always a fool._

Davos was leaning close again, his bushy eyebrows raised, eyes stern. “You listen to me, lad. It's easy to fall in love with em. Men do it everyday. And while it's a little harder to get em to fall in love with us, the hardest of all is makin’ it work. Makin’ something that’ll last. You gonna give up, or you gonna make it last?”

The door opened to his left, but he paid it no mind, mulling over his friend’s words. Giving up was not an option, not yet anyway, not when he knew damn well she loved him as much as he did her. He’d give her a chance to get home–no way he’d catch her plane before it took off–then he’d go to her for once, insist they talk and work it out so there didn't have to be a thousand miles between them. He’d move South if he had to, he hated the heat, but he’d suffer it if it meant he could be with her.

Life pumping into him once more, he slid the glass to Davos and stood up. He needed to get home and book a flight, pack his bags. “Can you watch Ghost for a few days?” 

A smile stretched across his friend's face, crinkled the corner of his blue eyes. “Aye, Lad. Though it looks like you won't need me to.”

He shook his head and regretted it immediately, grabbing onto the bar to steady himself. Maybe three doubles on an empty stomach had been too much. He looked back up at Davos. “What?”

His friend chuckled and nodded toward the front door. Jon looked over to see what he was on about and his heart tried to jump clear out of his chest. 

Dany stood there, a little rumpled and ragged. Coat askew, braids loose, cheeks flushed and wet. Her shoulders rose up around her ears, her smile helpless. “I saw the Rover.”

Suddenly as sober as a rock wall he made it to her in two strides and engulfed her in a hug, her pitiful blubbering laughter muffled by his coat. He stepped back and took her sweet face in his hands, thumbs wiping at her tears. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Her pretty head wobbled around, nodding and shaking at once. “You happened and no I’m not,” she sputtered. “I made it to the airport, even made it to the plane, gave them my boarding pass and all, but I couldn't get on. I just couldn't.” She threw her hands up and let them fall. “I was supposed to go home, but I couldn't because that's not home anymore. You are.”

Jon kissed her, not caring one bit about the audience they had. She gave a watery smile as he pulled back again. “I was about to go home and pack, book a flight to Kings Landing. Come find ya.”

Her smile grew bright as the sun. “You were?”

“Aye.” He kissed her again, unable to help himself. “I love you in case you didn't know.”

She gave a contented sigh, a cold hand pressed to his cheek. “I thought you might, but I’m glad to hear it because I love you too.”


End file.
